


Wake

by lampshadecrown



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, TROS Fix IT, lets take a trip to the underworld
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lampshadecrown/pseuds/lampshadecrown
Summary: He was sinking.No- No, that isn’t right. He was floating. Up was down and left was right and Ben Solo was floating, not sinking.Maybe Hell didn’t want him either.Heaven, at this point, had been a pipe dream.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue

_Do you know the words that make the hidden door open?  
Can you speak my secret name and fix me?  
I have no heart, I have no brain  
Lord I have no courage  
Can you get me home again?_

He was sinking.

No- No, that isn’t right. He was floating. Up was down and left was right and Ben Solo was floating, not sinking. Maybe Hell didn’t want him either. Heaven, at this point, had been a pipe dream. 

Ben Solo? That was his name, right? His thoughts were foggy, disorienting. There were flashes, images of a girl with dark hair and sand weathered skin. Lips ghosting against lips. If he focused enough, he could still feel them pressing against his own. It distracted him from the nothingness at the forefront of his consciousness. He felt resigned and numb. Like someone had taken a spoon and hollowed out his insides. He was hurting, but he couldn’t feel it. God, what was he missing? Who has he forgotten?

More importantly, have they forgotten him?

Before Ben remembers himself, he is pulled from the lake.

* * *

_You are not alone  
We are not separate  
My daughter's shoulders are my shoulders  
My son's hands my hands  
My wife's heart my own heart  
I've heard the outer darkness is really nice this time of year_

The desert sang this time of night. The wind whipped across the dunes to produce a _sshhhhh_ sound- the only thing she could hear for miles. This was the time of day that it would begin to get dark, that the suns would set. And again, she would be truly alone.

She was in the bunker, twisting the mechanisms on her yellow blade when she felt it. The tear in their bond- darkening. Not healing (it would never do that,) just rotting. Decomposing into nothingness. Now, not only would she not feel him, she simply wouldn’t feel anything from the bond at all. 

Rey flicks the mechanism again; the saber bursts to life. A shallow part of herself wants to dive on it.

But she won’t. She can’t bring herself to end things because of- she can’t think his name. If she left now, his sacrifice would’ve been for nothing. Rey can overcome this. She knows that much.  
She just doesn’t want to. 

She breaks down- foolishly, and feels around for the force. She adjusts to sit cross-legged, and lets her hands fall, palms facing up on her knees. She reaches past all the barriers she set for herself to prevent any more pain. She reaches into the cavernous empty part of the bond that once housed his consciousness, and she tugs on it. She attempts to devour it, suffocate it, anything that could provide a glimpse of him. _Come on,_ she thinks. _Just let me have one more moment._

There’s a feeling- like rubber snapping. And then, for one hot moment, she sees. It’s dark, and blue toned, like Exegol. But the dread in her stomach is far worse than that. In another flash she sees bones, rotting fruit, and the sound of static. Finally, she sees a group of tall cloaked figures- at least a dozen of them. And they’re carrying a limp body. 

She peers in closer, sharpens her focus more, trying to get a glimpse of a face. The body is wet and filmy, like it’d been submerged for days.

One of the hands of the unmoving man falls to the side, almost like it was reaching out. The cloaked figures stop and their skeleton hands clutch the body tighter. 

Rey is sent spiraling out of the bond, and she screams. Her mind feels like an avalanche- emotions spilling into her senses, too much for her to contain. So she screams and wails until finally, they pass. And when she goes to stand, she realizes that she is too shaky to do so. 

But she knows with certainty what she saw. 

Ben Solo has returned.


	2. the W.A.S.P

_Listen to this, and I'll tell you 'bout the heartache  
I'll tell you 'bout the heartache and the loss of God  
I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night  
The meager food for souls forgot _

She travels to the most remote part of Tatooine, and begins to bury herself in the sand. It isn’t easy work- the sand slides down her shoulders and back across the dunes. She spends hours digging. The sun is scorching her skin and she smells like sweat. But she won’t stop, not until there is earth above her and below her. It’s the only way to get to where she needs to go. 

She combed through all of the Jedi texts after the glimmers of Ben’s return. It had been 6 days since she was blessed with a sign, and since then, she has spent every waking moment looking for a way to get to him. She found it where she least expected- in the cockpit of Luke’s old X-wing. She’d taken it to Tatooine with her, to eventually bury it with Luke’s saber. 

Thankfully, she waited, and while shuffling through the storage she found an old silver locket, one that hadn’t been touched in ages. She raised it into the daylight to get a better look. The locket was rusted and crammed shut, but she managed to pry it open after a few minutes of wrestling with a hunting knife. On the inside, there was a note, so old that Rey was worried the paper would disintegrate between her fingers.

She opened it carefully, willing it not to rip.

_Between the sand and the center,  
Between worlds i awaken the fire  
Bury me in the ash  
And i will be reborn  
For your love will awaken me  
awaken , my love  
-A_

She had the strangest feeling about the note, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. The force signature surrounding it was familiar, like a memory she’d relived a thousand times. A life she’d been intertwined with. But not Ben’s. She would’ve recognized it. 

Rey folded the note and wedged it into the fabric of her tunic for safe keeping. And then she thinks. For hours she sits in the cockpit of the X-Wing, hypothesizing. 

And then she digs.

It’s an instinct, but one she knows all too well. It’s the same one that fueled her to save Ben on the Death Star. She chases it down into the pit of her stomach, and it tells her with certainty. 

_Dig._

So there she was, digging. Digging until she could no longer lift her legs. Digging, and then burying.

Rey briefly wonders if she’s just going to die in the sand dunes. If her feeling was just leading her to nothingness. 

When she finally fully submerges herself, she feels two minutes of discomfort. She wants to shriek- because there’s no air, there’s nothing to breathe, and she begins to panic.

Maybe she should stop. Her fingers flex against the packed layers of sand. Her nostrils are filling with the earth, and she absolutely can not open her eyes now, or she’ll surely go blind. 

Rey chases her panic, heart pounding in her ears. The bond is empty, and she wishes so desperately that Ben was there to tell her that she was doing the right thing. That she would make it back to him.

It’s the image of his face that brings her heart rate down, and slows her breathing.

It only takes one more moment for her to stop breathing at all.

* * *

_I'll tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought iron soul_  
_I'll tell you this_  
_No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn_

He is drowsy, even long after he wakes. He has visions in his new residence, visions of warm hands and unseen futures. He likes them more than anything else he’s experienced while being here. 

The underworld. 

Here, they call it the _Oblītus._ Ben doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t really care to find out, either.

Besides, his new dwelling is dark and damp, rather unexpected of hell. 

He often wonders which sin got him here. Or are all beings destined to go to hell regardless?

He shifts, his boots making a wet sound as they teetered in the mud. He was in a cavern of some sort, reminiscent of Exegol. It was bathed in blue light. There was no noise, none of the dead calling out for him. It was unnerving. 

“Ben Solo. The last of the Skywalker line.”

He stills, his breathing echoing off the cave walls. That was a voice he knew well. But, he couldn’t remember why. 

Skywalker? Who was that? Why did that name hold so much weight to him?

Ben suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. His muscles felt too tense. He tried to play it off, and shrugged.

“Who’s asking?”

He feels the figure move around him, their dark cloak brushing against his arm. Dark red eyes peer back at him. 

“Your Grandfather.”

Dread settles at the bottom of his stomach, before it explodes like blaster fire. 

“Anakin Skywalker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oblītus- Latin word for _forgotten_


	3. ...Familiar Place Pt. 1

_How did I get here  
How did I get here  
What did I do to deserve this  
The mountain was taller than I could've fathomed  
I hardly believe it from here at the bottom_

He regarded the figure carefully, trying to keep the chaotic emotions in his head from rising to the surface. He strained, trying to recall anyone in his life before this one- anything that could prove what this man was saying to be true. He was met with static. 

His voice was shaky.

“And who, pray tell, is Anakin Skywalker?”

The figure moves closer, an eerie and wide smile gracing his lips. Beneath his hood, Ben could distinctly see the burn marks covering his form.

“I am the opposite of you. Our stories are juxtapositions of one another. While I fell for love, you rose from it. And that is why you are here.”

Ben feels an ache in his chest, but can’t place why it is there. He shakes his head.

“I can’t remember any of it. How do I know if it was even real?”

The figure is still, like a mirage. 

“How do you know that it was not, Ben Solo?” Suddenly he disappears, like a crack of lightning. There isn’t a trace left behind. Ben peers down the corridor, hoping that whatever trick Anakin is playing will be revealed to him. 

His grandfather stands, shadowed by blue light at the end of the tunnel that Ben had awoken in. His reappearance is quick, a snapping of fingers. He beckons with a curved wrist. 

“Come. With time, you will remember.” 

Ben steps forward cautiously. 

“What if I don’t?”

The cavern is dripping now, an oozy liquid that lands on his head and runs through his hair. His steps make a hollow echoing sound. Anakin’s feet made no noise at all, which mystifies him.

“If you don’t remember, she will make you.” Anakin keeps moving down the hall. Ben begins moving faster to keep pace with him. “It won’t be pleasant. Awareness of one’s past life only brings anguish and regret. But you will carry the burden. For her sake.”

Ben frowns. “Who?” 

They have reached the end of the tunnel, which spills into a larger cave with a high ceiling. The oozy liquid has lessened in this space, and it feels slightly warmer in comparison to where he woke up. At the end of the room there is a great blue flame, its tongues lapping at the wall's edges, eating away at the Earth’s flesh. It smells of smoke and pine.

Anakin’s stone-like expression is visible in the firelight. 

“Rey. She is your bonded. Your _retinacula_. The bridge to your old life.” He places a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and it chills him to the bone. “And the key to the next one.”

Ben knows that name. It makes his insides coil like a spring. Before he can blink, his hand has come up to wrap around the older man’s throat, squeezing tightly. Anakin doesn’t look startled; if anything, he looks pleased. It makes Ben’s hand tighten. 

“Where is she?” His voice comes out forced, angry. Reminiscent of someone he used to be. There is panic deep down in his bones. Behind his eyelids, there is a girl with sand weathered skin and eyes that reflect beams of light. _Rey._

Suddenly he is thrown backward, slamming into the stone wall behind him. Anakin dusts himself off, and turns to face the blue flame. Raising his arms, the energy in the air begins to grow cosmic, molecules freezing. Ben looks up between the curtain of dark hair that fell into his eyes. 

From the flame rises a throne, dark and dreary, with sharp arrow-like appendages coming out of the top. It shines with a resin that reflects the flames brilliantly.

Anakin turns, watching Ben scramble to stand. The cosmic energy rises again. Ben is thrown towards the throne, landing on his knees before it. He huffs out a breath, his head bowed. What sort of power is this? How can Anakin move things- move him, without even touching anything?

“Sit.” Anakin says, his voice staying blank. “And you will remember. She is coming for you, young Solo. Do not worry. And when she arrives, you will be here,” Ben stands, spinning to meet his grandfather, only to be met with open air. “Waiting.”

His voice lingers in the corridor, the high ceiling of the cavern causing an echo. Ben looks around incredulously, trying to make sense of what just occurred. There is nothing to suggest his grandfather had ever really been there in the first place. 

He turns back to the throne before him, its black glittering surface taunting him in the blue light. There’s a thick energy surrounding it, similar to the energy present when Anakin jerked him around. Ben swallows hard, working his jaw. Since he has no reason to discredit his grandfather, he will do what he says.

Ben places his hands on the armrests of the throne, and lowers himself into it. 

_He is in the woods. Snow covers the ground and the trees- it falls lightly around him, dusting his warm cheeks. There is a throbbing in his side as he runs. Why is he running? The thick material of his cloak scratches against his neck irritably._

_He runs until there is a clearing, and two figures appear before him.  
Before he can think, he is unclipping a hilt from his belt, thumbing a switch-_

_A blade, as red as blood, materializes before him. It’s made of energy- his cosmic energy. There are two crossguard beams at the base. He is reaching toward one of the figures, his lips drawn back into a snarl._

_There is a scream, and she is thrown into a tree, knocked unconscious.  
He never gets to see the color of her eyes._

_The other figure rises in contrast, standing before him. A beam of blue light appears, similar in form to his saber. But this one feels more sterile, more controlled._

_He hears his own voice. “That lightsaber-” He motions with his own blade, “Belongs to me.”_

The scene shifts. He feels dizzy and nauseous.

_There is a girl strapped to the interrogation bench. His face is covered by a mask, a modulator changing his voice so that it’s unrecognizable. She is beautiful, stunningly so. It makes his insides twist and his voice tremble. She looks like she wants to spit on him, her fury palpable in the small enclosed room. She strains against the restraints._

_He waves his hand, energy pouring through him. Her bindings release, and she rubs her wrists, eyeing him suspiciously._

_“You still want to kill me.” He says, the statement rising in curiosity._

_If he is a dog, she must be too, because she bites back just as hard._

_“Difficult not to when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask.” Her accent makes the words sound more fierce, more pronounced. And suddenly, he wants to take it off, if even just to spite her. He wants her to lose her breath the way he did the first time he laid eyes on her._

_He reaches to the switches at the base of his jaw, and tugs it off. He looks at her with scorn, chin lifted. He will not be ashamed of his appearance now._

_She looks...he doesn’t know how to place the expression. She is stunned by the action, and her eyes move across his features appreciatively. He doesn’t know what to think._

The scene changes a final time. 

_He is on a walkway, and his father is touching his face._

_“I want to be free of this pain,” He sobs. “I know what I have to do, but I’m not sure I have the strength to do it.” He looks at Han's expression, memorizing the wrinkles in his cheeks and the gray in his hair. “Will you help me?”_

_He’s reaching out, the saber turned upward in his grip. To an outsider, it would appear that he is handing it over, but he knows the reality is much worse. His father gives him a sad smile._

_Kylo Ren ignites the beam, and his father falls._

When Ben comes to, he slumps from the throne, and cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _retinacula_ is latin for tether
> 
> ALSO yay! Ben is starting to remember things! But only the stuff about Kylo Ren :(


End file.
